


any other type (it's what he wants)

by rememberrogers



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Oblivious Tony Stark, Pining, Post-Avengers (2012), Team as Family, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-02 03:29:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16778722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rememberrogers/pseuds/rememberrogers
Summary: Where Tony eavesdrops endlessly, Steve pines ridiculously, and Natasha has officially had enough.





	any other type (it's what he wants)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! :) This is like. 99.9% fluff with like 0.1% angst considering the fact that these two idiots are ridiculously oblivious. I hope you guys enjoy, especially since this is my first foray into the Stony AO3 fandom! Thanks for reading!

“ — if you just tried with these other people, you might be able to get over this — ”   
  
“I don't  _ want _ to try with other people!”   
  
“Steve, it's not healthy to just...  _ pine _ after him like this for so long — ”   
  
“ — I don't want anybody else, Nat, okay? Only him.”   
  
Natasha's quiet. Then; “Okay.”   
  
Tony, upon hearing footfalls coming in his direction, dashes like a bat out of hell to his workshop.   
  
—————   
  
Okay, clearing up a few things seems necessary right about now.   
  
Tony Stark does  _ not _ have a crush on Captain America. That's — preposterous, honestly. Rogers is Captain America, Rogers is Cap, he's Tony's childhood icon, he's the leader of the super duper amazing superhero team Tony's on! Tony couldn't possibly have a silly, stupid crush on Captain America like some lame pre-teen who idolizes the soldier.   
  
But, you know. Tony Stark  _ is _ in love with Steve Rogers.   
  
Honestly, he has no idea how or when it happened. Maybe in between the time that his father drilled into his brain that Captain America will always be better than Tony in every way possible to where Steve Rogers was the first thing Tony saw after he witnessed impending doom coming onto earth. Between when he found Cap scared out of his wits next to Tony's bed after a battle that Tony was knocked unconscious from, to when he found Steve, barefoot and alone, at the top of Avengers Tower, looking out to the Manhattan skyline, eyes wet yet still asking Tony if he wanted a cup of hot cocoa with his impeccable manners.   
  
Maybe Tony was just always in love with him.   
  
So when Tony's passing by the gym showers, completely minding his own business while looking for Steve himself, then hearing that Steve apparently ‘wants’ some mysterious guy?   
  
It raises some inevitable questions.   
  
Tony's fingers tap anxiously against the arc reactor imbedded in his chest. “JARVIS, where's Cap now?”   
  
“Captain Rogers is currently in his quarters, presumably heading to bed because of the late hour, which I also feel fit to recommend the same actions of yo — ”    
  
“Yeah, yeah, thanks, J,” Tony dismisses, leaning back in his chair.    
  
Okay, he needs to think this through. Prior to this afternoon's discoveries, Tony always thought Steve was completely, with a dude-bro intensity, heterosexual. Like 'no homo tho' heterosexual.   
  
But, it was clear as day —  _ "I don't want anybody else, Nat, okay? Only him.” _   
  
Steve is fucking tilted on the Kinsey scale.   
  
Tony mentally slaps himself. How does that help him in any way whatsoever? Sure, Steve might be interested in guys occasionally, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's going to like Tony in that way. Tony's basically older than him, has PTSD and anxiety, he's arrogant bordering on narcissistic, can barely take care of himself, hardly eats or sleeps, and... Well, a million other things, and honestly, the only thing  _ Steve _ has that's preventing them from being together is standards.   
  
So. Steve might be gay or bi or pan but he still likes Tony as a friend. Otherwise he would tell Tony.    
  
Which he hasn't.   
  
And that's fine. Because if Tony only gets him as friend, he'll take that with both hands, and a foot if he could.   
  
—————   
  
“Hey, Tony,” Steve greets as Tony drags his tiredly weighted body to the common floor kitchen. Steve's still in his running clothes, a tight grey T-shirt and sweats that are snug on all the right parts of his long, muscular legs.   
  
Tony glares at the other man, just pointing to the coffee pot, and Steve chuckles in that low way of his and gets the pot and a cup from the cupboard.   
  
Screw him.   
  
Passing over the cup, which Tony takes with a half-way grateful smile, Steve grins back. He then perks up.   
  
“Oh! Clint said you were looking for me yesterday afternoon? But I didn't see you,” he says. “So what is it?”   
  
Tony's mouth goes dry. He takes another big gulp of coffee before attempting to speak.   
  
“Just have some new comms to show you,” Tony informs, dismissively. “Was gonna show you before I turned them over to Fury, but I didn't catch up with you yesterday.”   
  
Steve frowns. “Bummer. If you have the specs, we can look over them after breakfast?”   
  
Even though Tony was just planning to get a cup of coffee then run back to the shop to further contemplate Steve's possible non-heterosexuality, at Steve's hopeful eyes and optimism, Tony just grins.   
  
“Sure.”   
  
Steve serves up a big pile of waffles and a hefty plate of eggs and bacon, suited for a group of superheroes that'll pop into the kitchen throughout the morning. Tony takes a plate with a growling stomach, and, facing a dish of homemade breakfast, remembers another reason as to why he's infallibly in love with Steven Grant Rogers.   
  
Plus Steve refills his cup without prompting. Honestly the perfect man.   
  
Tony bites the inside of his lip in reprimand to himself.   
  
“So, Cap, we can — ”   
  
“FOOD!” Clint's voice shouts from the doorway of the kitchen, and Steve rolls his eyes fondly before making a plate for Clint.   
  
“Don't eat it all after I leave, Bruce might come up,” Steve scolds lightly, and Clint mumbles something incoherent from a mouthful of waffle.   
  
“He'll come up today,” a voice says from Tony's right, and he jumps in his seat before glaring at Natasha, who slides into the one next to his.   
  
“Oh my fuck,” he complains. “It's been nine months since you've lived here, you shouldn't be able to scare me like that anymore, Steve, tell her not to scare me like that anymore.”   
  
Steve rolls his eyes again, and, in some strange way, even more affectionately. “Let Natasha be herself, Tony.”   
  
When Steve turns away, Natasha pokes her tongue out triumphantly, so Tony makes a high-pitched whining noise that Clint guffaws at and Steve sighs at. “Nat.”   
  
Natasha smiles pleasantly at Steve. “What? I didn't even say anything.”   
  
Tony whines. “You suck.”   
  
“You suck more,” Natasha replies, and Tony lets out another complaining noise. Steve just smiles indulgently, which makes Tony complain louder.   
  
"Should we go down to the workshop?" Steve asks, still grinning, and Tony hmphs.   
  
"Let me finish my breakfast first?" Tony sasses, and Steve puts his hands up in false surrender before walking out of the kitchen. Tony, the whipped idiot, suddenly regrets not keeping Steve behind longer.    
  
Then Clint throws a piece of bacon at the side of Tony's head, said bacon then falling into Tony's coffee, which. Unacceptable, and totally calls for a bacon war.   
  
They only stop when Clint notices Natasha's left, presumably to tell on them to Steve, which makes Clint wolf down the rest of his breakfast before disappearing in the vents. Tony does pretty much the same thing, but races to the elevator to hopefully prevent Nat from doing too much damage.   
  
"Take me to wherever Nat and Steve are," Tony tells JARVIS once he's in the elevator.    
  
"Yes, Sir." The elevator guides Tony to the workshop floor, and he grins stupidly at the thought of Steve waiting for him in his workshop, in  _ his _ space, waiting for Tony patiently with that perfect face of his.   
  
Tony's  _ so _ whipped.   
  
When he gets there, Tony goes to turn the corner before freezing.   
  
" — should've done it this morning, Steve," Natasha's saying, tone soft.   
  
Steve chuckles, bitterly, a sound Tony hates. "To be humiliated? I'm sorry, Nat, but I can't just — He just doesn't like me that way. Can you even blame him? He's him, and I'm just — well,  _ me _ ."   
  
Natasha gives a loud sigh. "And that's why he would like you."   
  
Tony can't contain himself anymore. Just as Steve's opening his mouth to continue to sulk about this mystery asshole, Tony turns the corner, speaking loudly.   
  
"Who would like Steve?" he asks, cutting to the chase.   
  
Steve's eyes go comically wide, but Natasha is as collected as ever. "Oh, nothing. Cap and I were just chatting before I told him that somehow during your attempt to get bacon stuck in Clint's hair you left a smear of grease on the ceiling, that you know the poor custodians will have to clean."   
  
_ Tony's _ eyes then go wide, Steve's eyes going back to normal size as a furrow appears between his eyebrows and his Steve Is Very Disappointed In You look begins to form. "You and Clint were playing with your food again? Tony — "   
  
Natasha sneaks away halfway through Steve's third 'during the Depression' lecture of this past month, and Tony distantly scolds himself for not getting to the bottom of Steve's not-so-hetero crush.   
  
Romanoff and her stupid, sneaky spy tricks.   
  
—————   
  
Tony can't handle this anymore.   
  
It's been weeks since he first heard about Steve's crush, and it still hasn't stopped.   
  
“He was looking adorable today, in that baggy T-shirt.”   
  
“These freesias I saw on my run reminded me of him. He's just so... Gorgeous. I wonder if he'd like them if I got him some.”

“Do you think he'd like that Thai place I took you to in Brooklyn?”   
  
“He's so smart, Nat, he'd never want an idiot like me.”   
  
“Oh god, he's the most perfect person I've ever met.”   
  
Tony might explode if he has to hear another stupid reason to why this guy is the love of Steve's life.   
  
Because  _ Tony _ wears baggy T-shirts, even if they make him look a million times smaller than he is instead of making him look 'adorable', and  _ Tony's _ favorite flowers are freesias, and  _ Tony _ hunted that Thai place down, and he  _ loved _ it, and  _ Tony's _ one of the smartest people in the world, and  _ Tony _ —   
  
But Tony isn't perfect, and Tony knows that that's what Steve deserves.   
  
It's Tuesday (fucking Tuesdays, what are Tuesdays good for anyways?) and once a-fucking-gain, Natasha and Steve leave the room conspicuously as Thor goes on about his latest venture across earth.   
  
So, of course, the idiot that Tony is, he follows them.   
  
“Sorry, but I'm going to the workshop, forgot about a project and Pep will kill me if I don't finish it,” he excuses himself, apologetically.   
  
“No worries!” Thor waves off. “I, myself, would not bode ill on Lady Pepper's temper. Go on, Stark.”   
  
Tony throws a grin before disappearing out of the living room to follow Steve and Nat.    
  
“...I can't take it any longer, Natasha, I fucking can't.”   
  
“Then just ask him out.”   
  
“It's harder than that!”   
  
“Is it, Steve? Just ask him!”   
  
“I  _ can't _ , Nat.”   
  
“Why.”   
  
“... because I'm in love with him, and if he rejects me... I can't take that, not from T — ”   
  
Tony leaves before he can feel anymore hurt.   
  
—————   
  
“Hey, Tony,” Steve greets softly from the armchair he's sketching at.   
  
Tony, mind half-dead from his latest 48-hour working binge, had somehow come from the workshop to the library. Where Steve is.   
  
Steve.   
  
“Hi, Cap,” Tony replies. Steve stays quiet, before arching a brow, questionable.   
  
“Do you need something?” Steve asks worriedly. He checks the time from the clock on the wall. “It's — midnight, gosh, I didn't even notice, I was so wrapped up in my sketch — ”   
  
Tony waves a hand. “No, no — You can continue, I was just. Looking for company.”   
  
Steve's worried eyebrow furrow goes away, in replace a heartwarming smile. Tony's heart skips a beat.   
  
Steve motions to the chair next to him. “Be my guest, then.”   
  
Tony, only a bit hesitant, sits in the proffered chair. He gives Steve a small grin. “What're you drawing, Stevie?”   
  
Steve's ears immediately turn red, and a lighter color begins to spread across the top of his cheeks. “Oh! N-Nothing, really, just a — really bad sketch of some — some random person that I don't really know — ”   
  
Tony's heart plummets. Glumly staring at Steve's reddened cheeks and listening to his adorable stuttering, he sums up who it is.   
  
Mystery Asshole Man.   
  
“ — so it's not really a drawing you'd care about, really, since it's just a random person that kind of — ”   
  
Tony sighs, shaking his head and effectively shutting Steve up. “Okay, firstly, Steve, if I could, I'd see every drawing of yours, from pre-serum to de-icing — ”   
  
Steve, if possible, turns even more red.    
  
“ — and secondly, well. I'm guessing this drawing is something more personal.”   
  
Steve's eyes quickly shut. He nods his head frantically.   
  
Tony can't help but release a little chuckle. “Is it someone you might have a crush on?”   
  
Steve's bright blue eyes fly open, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. A very attractive one, though.   
  
Tony tsks. “Come on, Steve, I know these things.”   
  
After a few more moments of gathering himself, Steve clears his throat. “I — Uh, it might have — a bit of something...”   
  
Tony raises an eyebrow.   
  
Steve visibly deflates. “Y-Yeah. It's someone... special to me.”   
  
Tony, even fully prepared, feels himself sag in his seat. He sniffs, internally fixing himself.   
  
“Who is it?”   
  
Steve looks away instantly. “I don't want to talk about it.”   
  
Tony huffs, and suddenly he's angry, he's seeing red, because he goddamn knows that this Mystery Asshole isn't him yet still Steve can't even trust him enough to tell him who it is?   
  
“Come on, Steve, I'm not above acting like a twelve year old,” Tony barbs. “Give. Me. The juice.” He leans over, punctuating his words by poking Steve in the side.    
  
Steve, cheeks still inflamed, bats Tony's hands away. “Tony, really, it's not that big of a deal — ”   
  
And since Tony's not above playing dirty —   
  
“Is it that you don't trust me?” he guilt trips, tone small.    
  
Steve's now scrambling from his sunken position in the armchair, hurrying to shake his head, and from the motion, his sketchbook falls to the ground from his lap. “No, no, no, Tony, no! I just don't feel comf — ”   
  
But Tony seizes his chance, snatching Steve's sketchbook from the ground.   
  
“Ah ha!” Tony yells gleefully, smiling victoriously. Finally, he'll get to know who the fuck Steve has had his big, puppy eyes on and who the fuck Tony has to hunt down and make sure they're worth every damn inch of Steve Rogers' attention, and —   
  
Oh.   
  
It's Tony.   
  
Tony looks up, confused, and sees Steve pulled back far in his seat, face distastefully white and eyes abnormally large.    
  
Tony huffs. “Don't worry, big guy, I lost the page — this is me.”   
  
Steve blinks at him, blinks again (and dammit, if that's not one of the cutest things Tony's ever seen), then clears his throat, saying, wearily:    
  
“You... Lost the page.”   
  
Tony hums, starting at the beginning of Steve's sketchbook, thumbing through some sketches of the Manhattan skyline, of two cups of cocoa next to each other, of some of Tony's tools, his bots, his workshop designs, and damn it, he can't find any fucking faces besides the rare one of the team or himself —   
  
Steve grabs the sketchbook from Tony's hands, and Tony jerks forward from the force of it.   
  
“Steve — !” Tony complains loudly, but Steve's looking at him with wide, deep eyes that are burning with emotions that Tony can't understand.   
  
“Steve, what's wrong?” Tony asks, worried and a bit confused (and highly pissed off, because he was  _ so _ damn close to finding who that Mystery Asshole is).   
  
But Steve just shakes his head, slowly walking backwards out of the library. “Get sleep, Tony. Just — I know you haven't slept in awhile.”   
  
And as if on cue, exhaustion overcomes Tony, making him blink a couple times to keep his eyes open.   
  
“Are you — Are you sure, you're okay?” Tony repeats through a yawn, and Steve just smiles bitterly (and Tony hates that bitterness) at the ground. “I'm — I'm sorry that I invaded your privacy, I just wanted to try and help with your crush — ”   
  
Steve shakes his head again. “It's — It's fine, Tony. I appreciate the sentiment, but this is a situation I have to deal with by myself. And I think I just figured out what I'm going to do. Get sleep, Tony, goodnight.”   
  
Tony watches, helplessly, as Steve enters the elevator and gets sent to his floor, and says, to no one but himself:   
  
“Goodnight, Steve.”   
  
—————   
  
“You're an idiot.”   
  
Tony flies three feet up from his seat, hands clutched to his arc-reactor.   
  
“Nat!” he shouts. “No! Not cool!”   
  
Natasha shrugs amicably, elegantly sitting on the edge of Tony's desk, cotton pajama-covered legs crossed. “You're an idiot,” she repeats calmly.   
  
Tony shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.    
  
Yesterday sucked, in short terms, and Nat's little 2am pop-in isn't making today look all that promising either. First of all — the night before, with the whole Steve leaving right before Tony got to learn who his Mystery Asshole is, then first thing in the morning, Pepper wakes Tony up with news that he has two back-to-back board meetings in the afternoon, effectively cutting off Tony's plans to further investigate into Steve's crush. That wasn't enough, so when Tony went to the kitchen to eat Steve's always ready breakfast only to be met with nothing, Clint, who was sulkily eating some of Thor's Pop-Tarts, blamed  _ him  _ for whyever Steve didn't make breakfast, in which Tony just flipped him off, because _ did not _ . That forced Tony to eat leftover Chinese for breakfast, then he had to complete something the board probably wanted to see at the meetings, which took up his time till said meetings were due — that means that Tony hadn't seen Steve at all, all morning or afternoon, and that's just required for a certified Horrible Day for Tony Stark. After those boring, draining meetings were done, and he went back up to the living areas, Steve was there, but as a message that JARVIS played, saying he was stuck at SHIELD till late tonight, so he wouldn't be there for dinner, and that he was sorry, and that just topped off everything so very nicely. Bruce was at some science conference in Arizona, so that meant the second and only cook with edible food on the team was out, so Tony had to eat the same leftover Chinese food from breakfast for dinner, alone, without a Steve, and after that pity-fest he went to his workshop to sulk, and hadn't seen anybody till —   
  
Natasha Romanoff, who was now eating the raspberries from his fridge that were labeled ' **STEVE'S AND STEVE'S ONLY -TONY** ', because Steve liked raspberries and he liked sketching in Tony's workshop.   
  
“Hey, those are Steve's,” Tony protests. “And for whatever reason I'm an idiot I can't deal with right now because I have work to do.”   
  
Natasha rolls her eyes. “It involves Steve.”   
  
Tony shoots up in his chair. “Is he back? Is he okay? What'd SHIELD make him do?”   
  
“Oh, he's back,” says Natasha, tone light, one brow arched. “And he's okay. And SHIELD didn't make him do anything, he was just there to avoid you.”   
  
It takes Tony a few minutes to understand.   
  
Then he frowns. “What? Why?”   
  
Natasha sighs. “Because you're both idiots. And as amusing as this is, it's starting to get pathetic.”   
  
“ _ What _ ?” Tony asks again, getting irritated.   
  
“Calm down,” Natasha scolds. “Look, what did you see in Steve's sketchbook the other night?”   
  
Tony's brow furrowed. “How do you even know about th — ”   
  
“Steven tells me anything ever.” Natasha rolls her eyes. “Now, come on — what did you see?”   
  
Tony sighs, frustrated. He shoves his hands in his rustled hair, messing it up even more. “Uh — god, not what I was looking for.”   
  
“Who Steve likes,” she clarifies for him. Tony squints.   
  
“God, your two's friendship is simultaneously the coolest yet most annoying thing ever,” says Tony. “Yes, Natasha, I was looking for who Steve is in — who he likes, or whatever.”   
  
She nods. “Okay. So, he admitted to drawing his little crush, you got your hands on his sketchbook, then...?”   
  
Tony looks on dryly. “You know, for some reason, I have a feeling you already know.”   
  
She shrugs.   
  
“I just found some random sketches of the team, the workshop, Manhattan, all that,” he sighs. “It was a dead-end, and I get how I was annoying but Steve said it was okay, so I don't understand why'd he start ignoring me like th — ”   
  
“Tony,” Natasha interrupts, sharply. “What did you  _ see _ ?”   
  
Tony looks at her, highly annoyed. Why can't she just fucking tell him what he's missing here? Why can't she just tell him why Steve's ignoring him, why Steve won't tell him who he likes, why Steve doesn't like  _ him _ .   
  
“There was a sketch of Manhattan,” he huffs. “The tower. Two cups of hot cocoa — I remember when he was drawing that, we were together, and... And — Uh... The next was of the workshop, my bots, some of my tools, of me talking to... Of...”   
  
He trails off. Natasha arches a brow at him, slightly amused.

  
He shakes his head, frantically. “No fucking way. No — there was some of the team, of you and Clint and Bruce and Thor and I, not just me or — ”   
  
“He loves all of us.” Natasha shrugs. “But that's us together, as a family, because he does love us that way. But with you — Well, he likes you a whole lot  _ individually _ , as well.”   
  
Tony's heart stops a bit at that.   
  
“I — ” he cuts himself off.   
  
Because — Because  _ god _ , Steve Rogers  _ likes _ him. Steve Rogers likes  _ him _ , he likes him in baggy T-shirts, and he likes the idea of giving Tony freesias, and he thinks Tony is smart, and he thinks Tony is gorgeous, and he likes Tony so much, damn it, he thinks he's  _ perfect _ —   
  
And Steve wants him. No one else.   
  
Natasha sighs. “Tony, you're excused. Go find him.”   
  
Tony leaves in a flash.   
  
—————   
  
When Tony gets to the gym, Steve's still up at 3am, pounding at the punching bag with full focus.   
  
Only when Tony clears his throat, clenching and unclenching his sweaty fists, does Steve break out of his trance, looking over at Tony. He manages a weak smile, his eyes burning with a longing — the emotion Tony never understood.   
  
God, they've both been so stupid.   
  
“Tony, what are you — ”   
  
“I'm in love with you.”   
  
Steve freezes, his muscles tensing up, eyes widening.   
  
Tony rambles. “Good god, am I in love with you. You're — You're amazing, Steve Rogers, and even if I didn't want to, I'd most likely fall in love with you because everything you do, I can see myself next to you, doing it, too, because I really, really love you, and I know I screwed up major last night, but I'm willing to do anything to pro —  _ mmph _ !”   
  
Steve wraps Tony tight in his arms and plants a kiss on his moving lips. Tony makes the weakest sound of protest before giving in and throwing his own arms around Steve's neck, holding him closer to himself. Steve smiles brightly into the liplock, and Tony pushes away.   
  
“Stop smiling, you big weirdo,” Tony huffs, but he's got a goofy grin on himself, too. “This is a romantic moment, and you're ruining it.”   
  
Steve ducks down and lays a chaste peck on Tony's lips. “Nuh uh.”   
  
“Yeah huh.”   
  
“Nuh uh.”   
  
“Yeah h — ”   
  
“God, I love you, too, Tony,” Steve laughs, breathlessly, and Tony feels a tight coil unwind in his chest, feels his knees buckle a little, but doesn't worry about it since Steve's holding him up.   
  
Will always hold him up.   
  
Tony looks down, feeling uncharacteristically bashful, before peeking back up at Steve, who's staring at him like he's everything he'd ever dreamt of.   
  
Tony pulls him in for another long, hard kiss before pulling away and smiling.   
  
“D'you wanna know what my favorite type of flowers are, Stevie?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Kudos and comments would warm my heart <3


End file.
